A Game of Time

Catherine sat at the empty tavern bar, staring hesitantly at the wooden mug of beer in front of her. The bartender kindly offered to replace her beverage when he noticed it had stopped frothing an hour ago but the lady declined, stating she would rather not ride her horse home drunk. Catherine didn’t even know why she ordered it, having sworn off alcohol since she had Lana 10 years ago.

“He invited you! It’d be splendid to reconnect with your old mates!” Her husband’s words echoed at the back of her mind, causing her to smile. He had always been a fan of their old questing group and yet when presented with the opportunity to meet them, he prioritised her emotions over his own. The former knight wondered which dragon she killed to deserve such a gentleman.

“Kate?” came a gruff voice from behind her and boy, did it bring her back. The image of a large hulking giant came to mind, but he was nowhere to be seen when she turned around.

“Down here!” Catherine looked down to see a scruffy little dwarf, not even the height of the barstool she sat on, jumping rapidly to get her attention. Specks of dirt blotted his tan face, brown hair and beard. She blinked in disbelief.

“... Gudmund?”

“That’s me!” There was no way that was true. The Gudmund she remembered was a 10-feet-tall giant feared as the “Bloodthirsty Butcher of Dryhollow Woods”. This dwarf would’ve been crushed by his battleaxe. But his voice… that voice was definitely Gudmund’s. Catherine’s confused look and wild gesturing above his head told Gudmund all he needed to know.

“You didn’t know? A kind old hag- I mean, witch lifted my curse 7 years ago! I’ve been working in the Bronzefrost mines ever since!”

“Um, no. As a matter of fact, I did not know- wait, your gigantism was a curse?” The two kept chatting, Gudmund offering to gulp down Catherine’s beer to which she gratefully obliged.

“Where’s Ash? He arranged this whole dinner, didn’t he?” It was an odd sight, a dwarf trying to peep behind chairs and tables taller than him. Catherine informed him that she nor Ash were the first ones here, pointing to a large table at the corner of the room, then helped the dwarf stand atop a barstool to see. There sat a man clad in trousers and a shirt under a vest, both unbuttoned to show his toned chest. Messy, short white hair sat atop his round-shaped head and Gudmund shrunk back in disgust at the lit cigarette in his mouth.

“Agh, white hair. I’m assuming that’s Irian? Since when did he smoke?”

“Nope. That’s Fionghan. I’ve been sitting at this bar for a whole hour because he just won’t stop smoking,” Catherine replied with a sigh, shaking her head. This time, it was Gudmund’s turn to blink.

“Fionghan?! The innocent young black-haired druid who would jump at any loud sound… is that disgrace to society over there?!” Catherine nodded solemnly, causing Gudmund to go red in the face. He rolled up his sleeves and threw his brown locks back, stomping over to the smoking man. Catherine followed behind him with a hand firmly over her nose and mouth.

“Oi! Fionghan, my boy! You must have no shame to be endangering the health of everyone around you like this! What happened, dear God!?” Gudmund, with Catherine’s assistance, climbed up onto the table to better scold their old druid.

“And just who are you, old… midget?” Fionghan asked, looking the dwarf up and down, unimpressed with the view. Now that got Gudmund’s blood boiling.

“Why you little- don’t you recognise me?! I am Gudmund! Remember the giant you would always hide behind when something went bump in the night?! Yeah, that’s me!” Fionghan’s eyes widened, stuffing out his cigarette bud as he leaned in closer to observe the dwarf. Then he grinned, then let out a choking sound, and finally roared with laughter, letting out a few squeaks that were the signature of the younger druid.

“Seriously?!” The teen, well, in druid years at least, looked at the nodding Catherine and laughed some more, “Oh that’s too good! Did you get hit with a shrinking spell or something?! Look at you! You’re so… tiny!”

Gudmund was about to explode had it not been for Catherine calming him down, stating that at least Fionghan wasn’t smoking anymore. Apparently, the druid took that as a challenge, smirking as he took out another cigarette from his pocket. He probably could’ve lit this new cig on Gudmund’s flaming head if it was literally aflame.

“Hey, if you’re worried about my health, then you’re forgetting who was the healer of the group. Look.” Fionghan opened his mouth wide, bright green light pouring out from it. He had his arms spread open as if to say ‘See? No problemo!’.

“I didn’t forget! I know you can heal your own insides! But smoking harms the people around you too, and last I checked, you couldn’t heal others’ insides when they were beyond saving!” Fionghan frowned at that and stood up, towering over the dwarf on the table.

“Say that again to me you little midget!” Green energy began to engulf Fionghan’s hands while Gudmund readied his fists. Catherine didn’t feel like getting sued for destruction of property, however, and defused the situation immediately.

“Okay, okay. Settle down. I’m sure we’re all just hangry! Lana throws tantrums when she’s hangry! Why don’t we all order something to eat?” Gudmund looked at her incredulously.

“Kate! I thought I knew you better than this! The old you would’ve been pummelling this brat with me five minutes ago!” Fionghan turned to look at the former knight, content with the fact he no longer shivered at the sight of her ginger curls. Catherine sighed.

“Well, this is the new me now. Sit down and look at the menu! Oh, and call me Catherine from now on, okay?” Thankfully, she had plenty of training in sitting a stubborn man and a naughty kid down at a dining table, though the two back home were never this difficult. The mother dreaded the idea of Lana acting like Fionghan when she got older-

“Wait, who’s Lana?” inquired a puzzled Gudmund. The looks on both the males’ faces were priceless when Catherine outlined her life after the group disbanded. The retired knight smiled to herself when she noticed Fionghan’s aloof eyes softening at the mention of her daughter. Somewhere deep inside this misanthropic teen was the affectionate boy she knew all those years ago.

Soon enough, the waiter came to take their orders. Catherine was satisfied with a Stagnum elk steak while Fionghan seemed to have developed a taste for Cruor hawk breast and drumsticks during their time apart. Gudmund, on the other hand, seemed appalled at both their choices.

“Kate! I thought you devoured giant constrictor snakes for breakfast?! And you, Fionghan, since when did you start eating disgusting Cruor hawks?!” The druid stuck his tongue out mockingly, infuriating the dwarf. Thankfully, Catherine gave an actual worded answer.

“Well, the largest portions always go to Lana so… I guess my appetite just shrunk over time. And please call me Catherine.”

“Nonsense! I’ll remind you what it’s like to eat like a warrior! I’ll have a whole giant boar, thank you!” Catherine was sure everyone was wondering how the little dwarf was going to devour a whole boar, she knew she was. Perhaps they were just too polite, or in Fionghan’s case too apathetic, to question it. The waiter, not showing any sign of doubt, walked away with their menus.

The three sat in suffocating silence as they patiently waited for their meals. Fionghan had thankfully stopped smoking but Catherine almost wished he continued. At least then Gudmund would lose his head over the boy. As things were, however, she felt like an outsider, too awkward to start a conversation. The two males in front of her were unrecognisable, unfamiliar.

Thud!

A loud crash outside startled her out of her thoughts and all three heads turned towards the front door. After the crash were sounds of arguing, a thunderous roar, some more yelling, and finally the sound of the doorbell ringing. In walked a pale man with pointed ears and long silver hair making his way over to the table with a limp and a cane. He had a frustrated, wrinkled diamond-shaped face with golden eyes attached to his large body in stark contrast to the triangle-shaped face attached to the slender body of the woman next to him. Catherine was sure she didn’t know her; how could she ever forget features as striking as straight, long raven-black hair and emerald green eyes that weren’t shared by anyone else in the group, save for Fionghan’s previously black hair.

“Um, hi, I’m Catherine. You are…?” She had got up to meet the two and extended her hand towards the woman. Both new arrivals’ eyes widened, corners of lips perking up. The woman shook Catherine’s hand, giggling as she replied.

“You’re Lady Kate? I didn’t recognise you either! It’s me, Shriken, remember me?”

Shriken… Shriken the… WHAT IN ACTUAL- Those were the thoughts of the frozen Catherine, stuck in utter disbelief while the two chuckled some more. Behind the former knight, Gudmund and Fionghan were equally as shocked.

“Odin’s beard! You’re the dragon?! The same dragon who gave us headaches at Cliffcross?!” Gudmund’s surprise was met with a crackling of electricity. Shriken’s eyes had gone slit like a reptile’s as she breathed lightning from her mouth, which was all the proof Gudmund needed.

“Holy Rioghnach! How did that winged monstrosity turn into a beautiful lady like you?!” Fionghan questioned, scanning the woman from top to bottom before stopping his gaze at her thigh. Shriken frowned.

“Fairy’s blessing. And look me in the eyes when you’re talking to me, boy. Who even are you?” She then sniffed the air, “And why does it smell like Papaver flowers?”

“Aye. Would you believe me if I told you that’s Fionghan?” Gudmund walked Shriken through Fionghan’s new persona, using his own experience through the five stages of disbelief to help her. It didn’t help that Shriken had to go through them again when she realised the dwarf was Gudmund. Meanwhile, Catherine had snapped out of her shock and was helping the old man, or rather, elf sit.

“Same silver hair and pointy ears… you must be Irian…” sighed Catherine, placing the elf’s cane aside. Irian tried laughing again but it turned into coughing this time.

“Yep. I only found out two years ago that a mortal elf shouldn’t have been using the Bow of Melronna. I probably have a good 100… 200 years left?” Catherine was outwardly sympathetic but inside she was envious. Humans would kill to live that long. Still, for an elf, even a mortal one, to lose that much of their lives was still sad.

“Oh… my condolences…” But Irian waved her off.

“No, no. I was the one who insisted we find the bow. I’ll just have to make my remaining years count- agh ah- ow…” Irian groaned as he massaged his back. Catherine had nothing but pity for the elf. Shriken, however, did not.

“This old fool needed me to fly him here! He didn’t even contact me leading up to it! Just saw a poor Nuntic pigeon flying into my volcano with a letter telling me to pick him up from Glimmerholde! And then he had the nerve to complain about a ‘turbulent flight’?! Give me a break!” Irian tried arguing with the dragon lady but his weak, flimsy voice was no match for her thunderous, crackling roars.

Catherine, ever the peacemaker, was about to call for a menu when a line of waiters came. The first one presented her steak. The second presented the hawk. The third to sixth ones hauled in the boar. Sweat rolled down Irian’s and Shriken’s heads as the waiters had to set the boar on the table next to them to even have enough space. Shriken turned towards the three.

“Um… is that for us to share?” Shriken asked, puzzled. Both Catherine and Fionghan shook their heads and pointed to Gudmund. Needless to say, shock and laughter ensued and the dwarf was not amused.

“Oh come on! I’m sure our new guests would love to share this with me!” To his dismay, they did not.

“Nope! I’m a vegetarian now. It’s much easier eating inanimate plants and things than mobile beasts!” Saying that, she gestured at something on the menu to the waiter, “I’ll have the garden salad, please.”

“My teeth are too weak to tear that much meat. So I’ll have the soup of the day, thank you.”

The hilarity of what ensued was enough to break the tension. Gudmund realised his arms were too short so he had to get on the table again with Catherine’s assistance to even reach the boar. Then he found that the little table knife and fork he had been given was not going to make a dent in the beast, so they had to call the waiters over to slice the boar for him. After an agonising (read: hilarious) three minutes of slicing, Gudmund began feeling sick just looking at how much he had to eat but the dwarf wasn’t about to admit defeat, so he dug in. Three out of twenty slices later, he was passed out on his chair, burping and wanting to puke.

“What’s wrong, midget? I thought you’d show us how to eat like a warrior?” mocked Fionghan while he tore into his drumstick. Catherine generously offered to pack up the boar to bring back to her village, to which Irian gave her an odd look for, asking when she’d become so kind.

“Huh? Wasn’t I always the ‘noble knight’?”

“Yes, but you were also a merciless knight. I recall you refusing to help anybody with mundane matters like this. You always said things like ‘I’m a knight, not an errand girl’ and ‘get out of my sight, peasant’!”

Catherine paused, memories of her past self emerging. The more she remembered, the more she hated herself. Such an arrogant woman would never deserve the life she had now or even before. She was uncomfortable with how much the others had changed… but when did she change?

“And that’s why I love you!” came a deep disembodied voice from below them. Large scale wings emerged from Shriken’s back in a panic as everyone else sans Gudmund looked around frantically. Suddenly, a blood-red runic circle appeared on the floor and erupted into flames. A black silhouette complete with horns, pointy ears and a heart-tipped tail formed within the fire: the source of the voice.

“Catherine Gaumond! I, Prince Ashmedai of the Underworld, have been in love with you since our weapons first clashed in bloody warfare! It would be my honour to accept you as my princess!” Once the flames had died down, a muscular red body wrapped in wild black energy acting as crude clothing emerged. His dark auburn hair and round face were as beautiful as the bouquet of white asphodel flowers in his claws, save for the red skin. Their host, Ash, had finally arrived. Yet, Catherine only rolled her eyes.

“Not this again. I told you, I’m not interested! Plus, you’re 12 years too late, you devil bastard!” Catherine lifted up her ring finger, complete with a glistening silver ring. Ashmedai frowned, his bouquet bursting into flames.

“What?! Which mere mortal dare steal my princess?!”

“His name is Graeme Dyere, and if either he or my daughter are gone from our home after this incident, I will come down there and slay you once and for all! I don’t care if I’m retired!” Catherine threatened. The rest of the table smirked, happy to get a glimpse of the old Kate. Ashmedai was lost for words, 

“But… but…” He muttered, scraping away at the charred circle on the floor with his clawed feet.

“No buts! It’ll be me versus the underworld and I. Will. Win.” Ashmedai awkwardly scratched the back of his head.

“I gathered you all here to witness my betrothal and you say you’re retired, married and have a child? But it’s only been 20 years!”

“20 years is a long time for humans, for mortals! Not that you’d get it!” Catherine groaned, face-planting onto the table. Perhaps she just needed an excuse to process everything that’s changed. The only thing she knew of everyone here were their names and maybe a few personalities, and it seemed everyone else felt the same about her too. Was she really that much of a brute? Has she really gone soft?

No, she had just changed, just like everyone else had (sans Ash). And that was okay. She just needed to treat everyone like the people they were now instead of the people they were before. Most importantly, though, they had to do the same with her.

“Um, Ms Catherine?” Surprisingly, Fionghan was the one who snapped Catherine out of her thoughts. He pretended he did it just to warn her of the incoming salad and soup but Catherine wasn’t fooled, she could hear the concern in his voice. 

“Come eat with us, Ash. Gudmund could use some help with his boar.” Ashmedai took his almost-fiancée’s offer, careful not to set the chair ablaze. Fionghan and Shriken took turns slapping Gudmund awake, Irian offering his cane to help. Catherine looked around at the colourful cast of old- no, new friends, strangers if you would and smiled to herself. Graeme was right, she needed to get to know them again. Picking up her knife and fork, she cheerfully announced:

“Dig in, everybody!”